The Emperor's Master
by Fuhrer-Twilight
Summary: A forbidden love story between an ambitious emperor and a British-American who lives in the shadows by his side. AU History, historical events, yaoi (boyxboy), Alfred referred to as Liberty (see Author's Note at end of Ch.00), manipulation, tragedy, romance. Alfred tops (and vice versa). Complicated stuff in general. Weird pairings.
1. Chapter 00: Encounter

The ship docked in the port of Ajaccio, Corsica. Out of all the people that left the ship, one family in specific stood out the most to him. It was a family of four: the mother, a brown-haired plain beauty, the father, a blonde with blue eyes, the daughter, an exact replica of her mother, and the son, who resembled his father.  
"They wook to be mwy age*," he said to his older brother, who nodded once he spotted who he was talking about.

"Pewhaps be fwiends watew**," was the reply he got. He turned his attention back to the family.

The girl was walking diligently next to her mother, already showing composure proper of a young lady. The boy, on the other hand was energetic. He couldn't stop looking around his new home. While feeling fear, he felt eagerness. His mother had said that the Lord had willed them to live there, so he accepted it. He planned to make the best of it.

He noticed a boy with black hair watching him. He had grey eyes and was accompanied by what appeared to be his brother. He felt a surge of determination to meet him, befriend him. For some reason, he felt an attraction to the little boy.

Deciding to make the first move without leaving his mother's side, he smiled and waved at the black haired boy. The boy raised a hand, as if he were returning his greeting.

They both felt something deep inside, as if butterflies had taken flight.

* * *

**AN: **Hey! This is my first fanfiction since (finally) coming back to life on this account. So I do ship Alfred (America/US) and Napoleon Bonaparte, the emperor of France from 1804-1814 and briefly in 1815. I refer to the ship as "AmeNap".

In this fanfiction, before confusion comes up, Alfred is a human. He is referred to as "Liberty" or "Liberte" throughout the fanfiction because to me he was born into a Puritan family and his mother is the representative of the Puritan faith (may do a detailed fanfiction on this later, not now). "Alfred" wasn't a Puritan name, and after some research, I chose Liberty for several reasons. One of them was because his mother wished to express her joy at being an ocean away from oppressive Arthur and her mother, the Anglican Church. Since Arthur isn't his father or a close relative in this story, he shall be referred to as Liberty, although he will be called Alfred at times for certain reasons throughout the story.

* = "They look to be my age." (if not obvious)

** = "Perhaps be friends later."I tried doing children's talk but I most likely failed. Children aren't a strength of mine.

If you don't like where this story is going, you may express your thoughts politely as a comment. I will listen to you but I won't change the main pairing. It shall remain.

They are both children in this prologue. Alfred's family has moved to Corsica, fleeing the tension building up in the thirteen colonies.

I seriously do hope you give this fanfic a chance and don't disregard it simply because you have never heard of such a pairing before.

Happy reading!

**P.S: **The chosen cover photo sort of matches the intended mood for parts of the story. Credit to: . . (link may not appear; ask me for the link if it doesn't show up. I noticed it "disappears" when I publish the chapter).


	2. Chapter 01: Childhood

I ran as fast as I could, determined to catch him before he arrived at school. It was one of the few times I could actually talk to him without being chased away by his parents' disapproving looks. Spotting him, I called out for him. He turned to look at me and waited, permitting me to catch up.

"Ciao, Liberty. How have you been?"

"Stop being so formal, Napoleon. We are friends, not adults."

"I am of a higher class than you, or have you forgotten?"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, do forgive me for forgetting your high status, Napoleon Bourbon."

He playfully swatted at me with his books. I took a couple steps back to avoid contact with the books. After failing to hit me, he turned and proceeded to school.

"Don't you have school, Liberty?" he asked me, as I followed him.

"Perhaps," I said, "But Mum homeschools me. I'm in no hurry."

He shrugs. "Suit yourself. Don't blame me if you are late and she gets mad at you."

I smiled at him. "Grazie for the idea, my friend. I shall tell her that you held me back because you made me carry your books for you up to the priest's place."

Napoleon pouted. "Why must I always be your scapegoat? Very well. Just invent something else if she doesn't believe you."

"Fine," I responded.

"I have to go," he said. "I don't wish to be late."

As he left, I called out to him. "Tonight at the same time, same place?"

He didn't turn around to respond but I saw him nod. I hurried home, hoping to not give Mum an excuse to check on me during the nighttime.

* * *

"You are going where?" Napoleon demanded, sounding irritated. He was usually quickly irritated when he hadn't eaten. His mother must not have given him supper again.*

"To England, with my uncle," I replied.

"Commoner?"

"No, he is a duke."

"British?"

"Napoleon, you know I am British."

He shook his head. "No, you are American. You came from America, therefore making you American."

My friend had always insisted that I had no such thing as British roots and I had learned to not argue with him on the subject. He always insisted on what he believed in, and it wasn't easy to change his mind.

He went on. "You should come be educated with me in France. Father is planning to secure me a spot in one of the colleges there. I'll ask him to secure you one."

"Mum said Uncle Arthur would provide me with the best education England has to offer to boys my age," I began. Once more he cut me off.

"You are coming to France with me," he said firmly.

I never understood why he insisted on the impossible. Sure, he didn't like giving in to ideas he disliked but he had to understand that there was no way we could be educated in France at the same colleges.

His parents disliked me. Carlo disliked me because I was a commoner and he didn't want his son mixing with my lot. Letizia believed that I would soften her son up. Silly reasons, but they were the reasons our friendship was in secret.

That was also the reason why our lives would take different courses once we turned 11.

* * *

**AN**: The chapters are so short, no? I do apologize for that. They are much shorter in my notebook (trust me on that).

* = Apparently to teach her children discipline and strength, Madame Bonaparte would not feed them every now and then. I had to include it (add some facts here and there).

Napoleon was educated by a priest (always forget his name). He received the rest of his education in France, as shall be explained in the next chapter. Lots of weird stuff for now. I am (sort of) taking you all through Napoleon's life. I am straying away from what is normally taught about him so hopefully you'll learn something new as this story progresses.

In this story, Arthur is Liberty's(Alfred's) uncle, but Arthur married into the family, so he isn't related to him by blood. Arthur will be showing up in the story as time goes on.

Do remember that Liberty is Alfred. I'll post the reminder for every chapter, just in case.

Let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 02: Separate Paths

When we both turned 11, we went our separate ways, Napoleon not promising to write. His silent tantrum was not going to get him anywhere; there was no use. I was not going to study in France with him. Carlo had not managed to secure me a spot in the College of Autun at Burgundy, which was where Napoleon was going. When we were informed that on one of the rare days Letizia let me into their home, Napoleon had snapped at his father that he should have tried harder. Letizia had taken her son to the side and scolded him about raising his voice against his father. She proceeded to tell him that Carlo had managed to secure him a spot, at least, and to be grateful. Both she and Carlo shot me a look, which I took as another instance of showing their dislike for me. Napoleon never noticed. He never did.

We set sail on the same day. I planned to travel with him to Burgundy before going to Calais to take a ship to England but my uncle came to pick me up in his ship. Slight interest flared up on behalf of Letizia and Carlo, but they made sure not to show it, especially Carlo; Mum explained to me that he had accepted the French claims to Corsica only because of the luxuries he got. Since my uncle was a well-known English duke, no wonder Carlo suddenly took notice of me. I said my goodbyes to Mum, Dad and Napoleon before my uncle took Annalizabeth, my twin sister, and I to England.

Once there, Annalizabeth met her governess and I was sent off to the Queen Elizabeth's Grammar School for Boys. Aunt Elizabeth joked that I was sent there because Uncle Arthur thought she looked like the former queen. Uncle insisted it was because it was one of the best schools there was in London.

The worst part was changing my name. Many schools did not permit Puritan children and rather than deal with that, Uncle changed my name to Alfred. That was hard to get used to, considering I was fond of my name. Liberty. Alfred sounded plain compared to it.

School was tedious. I was awake from six in the morning to five in the afternoon except during the winter, when I was awake from seven in the morning to four in the afternoon.

Latin was the main subject. To promote fluency, we were expected to speak Latin at all times and were whipped lest we forgot and spoke English. I practiced by writing letters in Latin to Napoleon. He eventually complained and insisted that I write in Italian to him.

He informed me that he had transferred to the College of Brienne. I told him about the lively life I had in London: the balls, the romping around I did, etc. His only comment in regards to that was "Damn aristocrats" which told me he wasn't enjoying his life as much as I was. His words stung, since he kept forgetting I had aristocratic blood flowing through my veins but I excused him, as I always did.

Thinking it would do him some good, I invited him to join me in my studies in London. He rudely rejected my offer, insisting aristocrats were cursed anywhere. His choice.

He proceeded to brag about how he had been accepted at the Royal Military Academy. I wrote back, telling him I was proud that my little Corsican was making a career for himself.

"Enough about me," he wrote. "Tell me more about what my American friend has been doing in London. Figured out anything for yourself?"

The truth? No, I hadn't chosen a career at all. My uncle wanted me to join the navy but I felt that it was not my calling. He often threatened to toss me into the navy if I couldn't decide on a career. Poleon recommended me abandoning everyone in London and joining him in Paris so that we could be in the military together.

"No thanks, my little Corsican," I wrote, feeling annoyed. "There is only one major difference between the military and the navy. One is to fight at sea and the other is to fight on land. I refuse to join either one."

"Suit yourself," he wrote back, clearly irritated by my response. "Don't start crying when your uncle forces you to wear a sailor's uniform."

That threat loomed over my head and Uncle started opening my letters from Poleon. He clearly feared my possible escape to Paris to join the French army. Aunt Elizabeth forced him to stop, explaining that my Puritan nature wouldn't permit me to fight. He simply reminded her that Puritans fought in the English Civil War but stopped. He decided that simply forbidding me from going to Paris was going to be enough for the time being.

Poleon informed me that his father had fallen ill. He wanted me to join him on Corsica, since they all felt Carlo was going to die.

Uncle Arthur flat out forbade me from going, clearly remembering how close Corsica was to France. Aunt Elizabeth helped me pack my luggage and after informing my school I was to be gone for some time, I left London and sailed to Corsica.

* * *

**AN: **I do apologize if I got any information wrong. I double-checked before writing this chapter.

Aunt Elizabeth is Queen Elizabeth I. I ship her with Arthur and was in the mood of including the ship. Yes, Uncle Arthur is Arthur Kirkland, or England. He has a nice personality in this story.

At the end of the chapter, they are both around 15 years old. Carlo died when Napoleon was about to turn 16.

"Poleon" was a nickname used in a book I have of Josephine (Napoleon's first wife). The sudden transaction from Napoleon to Poleon shows the tenderness Liberty (Alfred) is starting to feel towards his "little Corsican".

There was barely any information on what happened when Carlo died. I am simply using my imagination since all I got was "he died on Corsica of cancer". :c

Look forward to the next chapter!

Any questions? Feel free to leave them and I will do my best to answer them.


	4. Chapter 03: The Funeral

When I arrived in Corsica that cold February of 1785, I did not know what to expect. Since it was Poleon who invited me, I hoped that I would not receive any ill wishes from his family, who most likely still detested me.

I made my way to my parents' home and I lied to Mum about Uncle Arthur letting me come. Since I was an angel in her eyes, she let it slide.

After leaving my luggage there, I made my way to the Bonaparte's fancy home. Once there, I gently knocked on the door.

A couple minutes went by and Joseph opened the door. He greeted me politely, although the hidden dislike was still obvious. I ignored it as he let me in.

Those that could be present were there. Madam Bonaparte stood there, clad in black, and with a child in arms. Apparently Carlo had left behind yet another child.

Her icy yet mournful gaze fell on me. As her lips parted to begin cursing my presence, Napoleon strolled over and hugged me, quietly thanking me for coming. I returned the hug, ignoring the glares I was receiving.

I nodded and unwillingly released him. It had felt good holding him close to me. Napoleon's waist felt small, not as small as a lady's of course but satisfyingly small. His hair was long, an inch or so above the shoulders and his grey eyes, despite being full of sorrow, were beautiful.

"Shouldn't you be in England?"Madam Bonaparte asked, not even bothering to disguise her dislike for me.

"Yes, ma'am, but Napoleon requested for me to come over for his father's funeral. After gaining permission from my uncle, I came, in respect to Napoleon's wishes."

"Even so, shouldn't you be studying?"

"Yes, ma'am, but I came to support Napoleon as he requested."

"Mother," Joseph interrupted suddenly. Madame Bonaparte turned to look at him. "It is time for the service. We should all be going."

She bit her lip before nodding. "Very well, Joseph."

The family slowly left the room, clearly to go where Carlo would be buried. Napoleon took my arm and led me over after the last of his relatives came out.

The funeral went uneventful. The priest carried out the service, something interesting to me since it was a Catholic service. Being Puritan, it felt strange being in the presence of a pastor that was not for my religion.

As his casket was lowered, the family dropped flowers onto it. Madame Bonaparte quietly wept, but otherwise kept a straight expression.

When it was covered, we all stood there in silence. Some of his siblings spoke a couple words. I stayed silent, gazing at the grave.

I had not gotten well with Carlo while he had been alive. I could recall the instances he would scold me for being near the house and left the expelling to Madame Bonaparte. While she played a bigger role in my oppression, he still partook in it and that was enough for me to dislike him. I could not say he was the best father, for despite succeeding in getting his sons into good schools in France, he had led a lavish lifestyle, which contrasted with the simplicity Madame Bonaparte raised their children in. Too much of an aristocrat, and my apparent poverty had been his main reason for wanting me as far away from Napoleon as possible. Interest in me increased only due to my being related to Uncle Arthur, Navy General and British Duke.

Either way, may he rest in peace. I will watch over Napoleon now.

* * *

**AN: **I was able to finally post on this story after too long of a pause! (It is already finished in my notebook). Thanks for being patient :3

I must express once more my disappointment in the lack of information on Carlo's funeral so I followed a traditional Catholic funeral.

Please bear in mind that Napoleon's family dislike Liberty(Alfred) because he is British and shows clear signs of being homosexual. Madame Bonaparte does not want Napoleon to be "corrupted" (same reason for her dislike of Josephine- she believed the former Viscountess had corrupted her Poleon.)

Joseph is suppose to be the nicest of them all, but he was quite rude to Josephine when he was in her presence so you will be seeing him occasionally act nice to Liberty(Alfred). This is a mask, though, mainly out of respect for Napoleon and Joseph's kind nature. Joseph does dislike Liberty(Alfred).

The next chapter will be a bit mature. Keeping with F.F's policy of some but not fully detailed sexual scene, it will be a dud, considering this is a mature fanfic but it cannot be explicitly detailed but it will be detailed so I will try my best.

Toodles for now!


	5. Chapter 04: The Forbidden Fruit

"I deeply apologize for the rudeness of my family earlier today," Napoleon said as we entered my room. He had decided to go to my house for a bit before going back to his. I told him it was alright and that I was used to it. He insisted on apologizing either way and I made him drop the subject, since apologizing was not going to make them accept me anytime soon.

"How has England been for you?" he asked as he sat down on my bed.

"Tiresome," I admitted. "We are at the age in which the noblesse* is expected to start courting. No young lady catches my attention though."

"You go after older women then?"

"No."

"Married ones? Widows?"

"No woman that walks this planet."

He stared at me. "You...are a sodomite?"**

"Do not say it in that tone, Napoleon."

"It's immoral!"

"I cannot help who I am!"

"It can't be… Out of all the people on this island, it had to be you who was a sodomite! Liberté, why?"

I sat down next to him and he edged a bit away. His rejection hurt but I was determined to make him understand I had no say in what I liked. It was who I was, and I wished for my beloved to understand that.

"I cannot change this, Napoleon. Can you comprehend that?"

"Fake that you have morals and marry a duchess. Even an old countess will do! Sodomites are executed in your country and you know it! Liberté, how could you bring this upon yourself! Why?"

His ignorance irritated me. I needed him to understand but I did not know how. I could not love a woman, and a woman did not deserve to be cheated out of a wonderful marriage to hide my desires.

"Why are you a sodomite! Answer me!"

I did the only thing that came to mind. I silenced him with a kiss.

In his shock, he sat there as I deepened the kiss. Placing my hands on his waist, I pulled him closer, wanting him pressed against me. My right hand went up his back and my fingers entangled themselves in his hair, preventing him any escape. I briefly broke the kiss to allow us to catch our breath before I kissed him again.

We fell onto the bed and he stared at me, his eyes showing he was in confusion, struggling to comprehend what was happening. My friend was innocent, apparently.

I left his lips and slowly made a path across his cheek with kisses, with his neck being the destination.

Napoleon shifted a bit under me when I finally reached his neck. I rested there, not desiring to leave that area anytime soon. Being able to remain that close to him without him insulting me was a relief. I did not desire to force him into anything, choosing to not touch him today. Guilt was washing over me, and while my thirst was being extinguished by it, it also increased due to the closeness of our bodies.

"Liberté?"

That voice. I winced slightly, feeling the heat reach my loins. Even if I desired to not go any further, my knowledge and desires were strong. I wanted him. I needed him.

I carefully got off of him and sat on the edge, giving him room to sit up. He looked slightly dazed, but I noticed something he didn't: the bulge in his pants.

"You better take care of that," I said with a chuckle, looking down at my own. He then noticed and turned red.

"I…"

"You are smaller than me, I'll tell you that much."

"Liberté!"

Giving in to my desires once more, I turned to look at him. Cupping his cheek with my hand, I looked into his eyes as I murmured,"I could take care of it for you."

His eyes widened slightly, unable to speak. Without hesitation, I kissed him again, lowering him upon the bed again. He barely placed any protests as I removed his clothing. He eventually laid there trying not to look embarrassed

"Liberté, I do not believe I can do this. It's too soon! I-"

"Do you trust me?" I asked, removing the last article of clothing I had on. His eyes widened and a faint blush crept up on his face as he took in the view I was giving him. I could not help but grin.

"Like it?"

"It's too big!"

I kissed him and he timidly wrapped his arms around my neck. Not stopping to wonder if it was because he was simply feeling lust or if my feelings were being returned, I continued my previous exploration past his neck. He kept making occasional small moans when I reached specific areas of his body. I gently stroked him, making him briefly jump.

"Liberté, what was that?" he gasped.

"I'm simply giving you the pleasure you deserve. Never had someone do this to you?"

"I'm still a-"

"Virgin? Then I'm your first… I'm glad, Poleon."

I then licked one finger as I spread his legs with my free hand. He gasped as I gently prodded his bumhole.

"Too tight, Liberté! I can't!"

"I just need to prepare you, that's all. Wait a bit…"

I set to work, making his hole as wet as possible, yet I knew that was possibly not enough. He was right. He was too tight.

"Poleon?"

"Hm?"

"... I will need you to give me a quick blowjob."

"What's that?"

"I need you to lick my-"

"I cannot possibly fit that thing in my mouth!"

I sighed and gently kissed him. "Just get it wet."

While he did that, I tried to not get anymore excited yet I failed. He was inexperienced, but so was I. I received pleasure from the thought that it was him doing it, not necessarily from anything else.

When he was done, I gently pinned him down again, this time he faced the pillows. His whole body trembled. I wanted to stop but the forbidden fruit tasted too sweet. I could not stop.

I did not wish to stop.

His cries slowly turned to moans. Our bodies intertwined and if it was forbidden, at this moment our minds did not care. Our bodies' desires overran reason.

That night he became mine, and I his.

As we fell asleep in each other's arms, I never once thought of what would happen the next morning.

* * *

**AN: **So I'm alive...again. Recently managed to finally finish this chapter. Sorry the sex sucked but I didn't want to focus too much on it. Or even on the next chapter. Especially the next chapter. Oh well. Life's hard when it comes to chapters like these two. Oh well. Time for clarifications.

*Noblesse basically means the nobility. I like the word so I used it. It also made the sentence move smoothly. Well...to my ears at least.

** Sodomite... I did some intense research before using this insult. A sodomite is basically an immoral person. It can be used for any immorality, basically. It was used as a term for homosexuals, because I knew (before conducting this research) that the word homosexual was not coined until the late 19th century. I knew they had to have had some sort of word to describe them and this one came up. This term will appear over and over.  
Yes, sodomites were killed a lot, especially the men, in England around this time and the rest of Europe.  
I seriously hate this word because it references the immoral city of Sodom, destroyed along with Gomorrah because of their immorality (the story of Lot). I can only imagine how hurt Liberté (Alfred) was hearing Napoleon call him that.

Well, the next chapter is just as bad :/

Enjoy, I guess.


	6. Chapter 05: Rejection and Despise

I awoke to Napoleon starting to hurriedly dress himself. Not fully comprehending what exactly was happening, I sat up and stretched. Then I watched him for a bit before dressing myself.

Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around his slender waist when he was finishing fixing his clothes.

"Good morrow, love," I murmured into his ear. His reaction surprised me.

He shoved me away angrily. "Do not dare touch me again, Liberté."

His cold voice startled me. After that night of passion that occurred between us, he rejected me afterwards?

"P-Poleon, why do you react like this?" I asked him, hurt crossing my eyes.

"This should never have happened. I… I am disgraced and it's your fault!"

The words stung enough. The hatred and the way he yelled it at me made it ten times worse.

With a trembling hand, I reached out towards him. "P-Poleon… I'm sorry, I-"

"I can't believe I was ever friends with you. I trusted you, Liberté. And this is what I get? No. Don't you ever dare bring this up again, understood?"

"I… Poleon, I didn't mean to hurt you. I...I thought we had a connection, and that you loved me back…"

"Love you?" He gave a scornful laugh. "How could I ever love a sodomite? I could never. What happened last night was your fault. I never wanted to engage in such thing. Leave me alone."*

He turned and hurried away, tears slowly falling from his eyes. I grabbed him and tried pleading with him to stay and to talk it out with me, but he broke away.

"Can you imagine what will happen with me once everyone finds out? My career will be ruined! I'll be disowned! Liberté, I'm ruined. It's your fault and I'll never forgive you!"

He ran down the stairs and fled out the door. I tried running after him but my mother stopped me. The look in her eyes told me she had heard everything. My heart fell.

"Mother, I-"

She held up her hand to stop me. "I am not ashamed of you, my son. A mother's love is unconditional. Yet Napoleon Bonaparte will never match my love for you. He… He will no doubt turn you in considering the state he left in. Grab some things and we'll catch you a ship. The Bonapartes will no doubt desire to punish you for assault."

"Assault? But I-"

"Napoleon will no doubt sell them that story. He will not want to ruin his reputation and would rather let you suffer the blame. Your uncle will protect you in Britain. You just have to stay with him and keep your distance from the Bonaparte boy. At least until this dies down."

Knowing my mother was right, I packed some clothes quickly and followed her to the ports. The first ship leaving was the ship I boarded. Mother had packed me a quick breakfast and I ate it slowly as the ship went to France. She had also left me some money.

I slowly made my way to England, which took me a month or so, since I refused to see my uncle's face.

He had received a letter from Mother which had arrived before me due to my slowness (also due to the quick messengers he has) and the face he had on once I had arrived held a thousand emotions.

First he hit me, then he hugged me. I cried into him, finally letting go of the emotions bottled up inside of myself.

"Never again will you see that boy again, understood?" he hissed as he stroked my hair.

I slowly nodded.

"Good. Let's get you inside. Your luggage will arrive in two or so weeks. In the meantime, relax."

I slowly healed in the following weeks at the countryside mansion. Uncle Arthur was in the process of securing me a spot again in school, making me feel guilty for my trip to Corsica. But Poleon…

Just his name crossing my mind brought a thousand memories. Memories I desired to burn or to toss into the rain to permit them to get ruined.

Yet I couldn't. I loved him. He didn't. That should have motivated me to shove him aside but my love was too strong. I was in too much pain to wish to move on.

A deeper wound struck when Mother's suspicions came true.

An angry letter from Joseph had arrived months or so read as follows:

_Keep your distance from my brother for what you did holds no name. When we find you, we will kill you. Your uncle won't be able to help you much outside of Britain, so I recommend for you to stay in there._

_My brother does not wish to ever see you again. Don't ever think of returning to his life. He is pretty down as far as the eye could see, but he soul is still mending._

_No one will welcome you back in Corsica. If you ever return, everyone will treat you like the sodomite you are._

_Don't you ever dare try to touch my little brother again or I won't respond._

Uncle Arthur crumbled up the letter once he finished reading it out loud.

"As if. I have important contacts everywhere, even in the court of Louis XVI. Don't fret,nephew. Nothing will happen to you as long as I am here for you, and you stay away from that boy."

I smiled sadly. "Yes uncle. I'll be in my room."

"Stay for tea. It'll do you some good."

I shook my head and left. Once in my room, I slumped against the door and began sobbing.

My world had been ruined. Napoleon had ruined me. I was safe, yes, but I could not tolerate knowing I was detested in my beloved Corsica.

I had known people's reactions to people such as myself but Napoleon… I could never have imagined being stuck in this mess because of him.

That night...apparently meant nothing.

While he was in Paris, expanding his career, I was trapped in this room, with my uncle pulling strings in a frantic attempt to keep this story from reaching the public.

_If this is the despise_

_That I deserve_

_Help me, my God_

_I beg of you, my Lord_

_I know it is my fault_

_I only wished to love him_

_I failed in love..._

* * *

**AN:** I completely hated this chapter. I hated every word I had to type out. But I had no choice. Napoleon around this time (in actual history) had attempted to make a friend (whose name I will never know apparently but created this story after reading about this) turn straight. The friend had given in to homosexual temptations and since he is never named or brought up again, he must have been kicked out of Napoleon's life, like Liberté here.

The two lover-birds will reunite and this won't be the first or the last time Napoleon acts like a douchebag in the story. Plenty more where this came from.

But no, seriously. If you hated this chapter, do not be afraid to say so. I hated it to.

Any explanations for stuff I wrote, remember to ask me and not jump to your own conclusions.

The lyrics at the end were translated from a song I was listening to while writing this. The song it called "El Desprecio" by Aventura (Romeo Santos) and yes it is in Spanish. It's called the Despise or something to that effect (Part of chapter title if anyone has noted). I wanted a good ending to a shitty chapter and hearing those specific lines made me realize they were perfect to describe the suffering Liberté is going through.

In the meantime, more chapters to go. This story is getting longer than originally intended. Please hang in with me. More drama planned :)

Happy reading!


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